


est procidens

by skatingsplits



Category: Bodyguard (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jed Mercurio Ruins Lives, Manipulation, Mistrust, i love these trash cans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatingsplits/pseuds/skatingsplits
Summary: It was another thing to be worried about, that it would somehow get out and she would be splashed across the front pages in a manner not seen since John fucking Profumo.





	est procidens

**Author's Note:**

> I was hesitant about even writing this, let alone publishing it, because I don't trust Jed to not completely turn everything upside down and make all my thoughts and interpretations completely wrong BUT this pairing is so delicious I couldn't resist. Set between the second and third episodes.

 

If she’d thought fucking him would take the edge off, she had been badly wrong. Apart from anything else, it was another thing to be worried about, that it would somehow get out and she would be splashed across the front pages in a manner not seen since John fucking Profumo. The Sun and The Mail might be in her favour when she was rallying the backbenchers on immigration but there was no way they'd miss the chance to gloat over Julia the Cougar if there was even a whisper of impropriety. As for the physical, she'd foolishly imagined that after seeking comfort in those rather impressive arms, her little crush would have disappeared as the sun came up. Instead, Julia found her thoughts drifting to those arms more often than would have been seemly even if she hadn't had a literal global terrorism crisis to contend with. _It was Craddock's fault,_ she thought bitterly as she dropped ice into her whisky glass more aggressively than necessary, _for assigning her a PPO who looked like a fucking film star._

  
The first time, she hadn't even stopped to think. She'd nearly died, for Christ’s sake, it was no wonder her head hadn't been clear and clarity hadn't become any easier to find once he started touching her. There was nothing she hated more than feeling weak and breakable, and David's bruising fingerprints had been an excellent reminder of exactly how unbreakable she was. Sex for Julia had always been about proving something; when she was a teenager, it was how mature and sophisticated she thought she was; in her early twenties, it was how tough she was, her unwillingness to be submissive; as her marriage was breaking down, that she was still desirable, still had Roger at least somewhat under her thumb. Now, with him... well, the least complex answer was that writhing under the hot, hard press of David’s body proved that she was still alive. She was winning, every beat of the pulse jumping in her neck serving as evidence that the myriad of people who wished her ill had not had that wish fulfilled. This did not, however, provide a justifiable excuse for the second time. Or the third, fourth or fifth. The only thing she was proving was that she was letting her baser instincts completely overrule her usually steely will. Hardly surprising, given that her brain was so bloody overloaded. Any respite from the constant stream of parliamentary machinations was welcome, particularly when that respite happened to involve the best sex she'd had in at least a decade.

  
And it wasn't as though she was actually in danger of getting in over her head. Despite her assurances otherwise, she didn't trust him, not really. How could she, when she was surrounded at every turn by people who wished her harm? Trust didn't come easily to any politician, let alone one in as precarious a position as she was. She believed, however, that she had her PPO wrapped firmly around her little finger and that despite his inscrutability, she had more sway over him than any of his superiors at the Met. What was more, she found that inscrutability arousing, his intensity even more so. She was so used to being surrounded by people whose self-interested motives were written all over their miserable faces, whose passion was nothing more than a front for selfish ambition. True, she usually couldn't even pretend to know what David was feeling but she was convinced that he was feeling it deeply and Julia couldn't overstate how much that attracted her.

  
_Get a fucking grip,_ she remonstrated with herself as she moved over to the adjoining door and rapped her knuckles against it before she could think herself out of it. Whatever grip she had weakened considerably when the door opened. The word ‘smouldering' really shouldn’t be found outside the pages of the trashiest erotic novels but Christ, the look on his face couldn't be described as anything else. David stepped into the room, a strong hand resting briefly on her hip as he did so. The door had barely closed behind him before she was on him, lips hungrily searching for his as her frantic hands tugged at his tie and she made sure there was very little space between their hips. She had just managed to push his jacket to the floor when David broke away, his hands on her shoulders as he steadied her.

  
‘Julia, are you...’ he paused somewhat awkwardly, as though searching for a tactful word, and settled lamely for ‘alright?’ She stared up at him, uncomprehending.

  
‘Of course’ she reached for him again, fingers trawling over the buttons of his shirt. He kept her at a distance, however, a slight frown crinkling his brow.

  
‘You seem a little...’ he paused again and Julia felt a small wave of irritation rising ‘on edge' he said and for a moment she could do nothing but stare at him.

  
‘Is that a joke?! Of course I'm on edge!’ she exploded ‘It seems like half the fucking country wants me dead, the party is trying its best to get me to disappear to the backbenches, and I'm just waiting for the tabloids to report that I've been coercing my married PPO who's ten years my junior to give me a pity shag!’

  
The trace of concern on David's face vanished as she spoke, replaced with that frustrating, almost permanent blankness. He let his hands drop from her shoulders and stood aside as though to free her path to the door.

  
‘Very good, ma'am' Julia sighed, instantly regretting her outburst. She usually had a much tighter rein on her temper when she was anything other than completely alone but she supposed she'd started to let her guard down. It wasn't even as though she really believed what she'd said; if there was one quality she had in spades, it was self-esteem.

  
‘I'm sorry, I... bad day. Long day' she ran a hand over her face in exasperation ‘I shouldn't take it out on you, David. Not when you're the only person who makes things bearable for me’. Julia arranged her face into an expression of what she hoped was beseeching femininity, gently reaching out to stroke his arm.

  
‘You don't need to apologise to me, ma’am’ his hand ran the same path through her hair as hers had moments earlier, but his touch was caressing where hers had been self-flagellating. ‘It's my job, to make your day easier' he said quietly as he pulled her back to him, into a kiss that was much less frantic but no less passionate than the first.

  
‘I don't think that's strictly within your duties, PS Budd’ she said coyly as she pulled away, a teasing smile on her lips. 

‘My privilege, then' she didn't know if it was the low rumble of his voice or the words that he was saying that made her moan but she didn't have time to dwell on it before his mouth was making its way down her neck and making it very hard for her to concentrate on anything other than the sensation of his lips on her skin.

  
‘David' was about all she could manage, her head tilting back as her fingers came to rest on the nape of his neck.

  
‘You can't think I'm not interested in this' he murmured as he traced his fingers over her collarbone. Usually when they did this- and Julia simultaneously despaired and gloried at realising they now had a ‘usually’- he didn't tend to talk. It didn't bother her; the feeling of him inside her and on top of her was sensory overload enough. Nevertheless, she felt a hot tight spike of desire in the pit of her stomach as he spoke, even as she wanted him to let what she had said go. The crackle of intensity in his voice was almost as electric as the look in his eyes as his hands moved to undo the buttons of her perfectly-starched blouse and if it hadn't been such a cliché, she would have said she was melting.

  
‘God, David, the way you look at me...’ Julia would have been embarrassed at how utterly wrecked she sounded if her entire capacity for feeling wasn't taken up with unadulterated lust.

  
‘I thought you were under the impression that this was a pity fuck' he held his gaze, corners of his mouth slightly upturned in something she'd come to realise was a genuine smile as his hand skated over the soft flesh of her thigh.

  
‘Call it fishing for a compliment' she said breathlessly, fiddling with the buckle of his belt, wanting him to drop the subject and _just get on with it._  
‘I call it delusional, Home Secretary’ David's voice was impossibly low and rough and the way his teeth nipped at her earlobe certainly did nothing to dissuade her from believing him.

  
She'd not stopped thinking about this since the night before last, imagining the hot hard press of him inside her, giddy with desire in a way she hadn't been since she was practically a teenager. Of course, she also couldn't stop remonstrating with herself for letting it get the better of her and the tumult of emotions was making her desperate for the relief that fucking him would bring, however brief that relief would be. She should have been pushing him away, she knew, but despite her best efforts, she continued to find herself falling into him.  
Their coupling was intense and brief; she found herself lost in the rhythm of his breathing, his hips and his hands until her legs were shaking and her mouth was open as her stomach tensed and she was hit with the addictive wave of pleasure that she was still not quite used to. With noises that might have verged on embarrassing had she not been quite possibly having an out-of-body experience, her nails clawed at David's shoulders, breathing coming somewhat back to normal as he jerked and stilled and his tight hold on her hips relaxed a little. He dropped his head to her neck, both in a gesture of fatigue and to press a kiss at the base of her throat.

  
‘You know, you're quite good at that' she murmured playfully as she gently brushed a hand through his hair. His answering smile was wider than normal and didn't fade as he pulled away and moved towards the bathroom.

  
‘Glad to have your approval' his dry tone made her smile a little and she quickly shed the blouse that hadn't quite managed to make it all the way off her shoulders, grabbing her bathrobe from the back of a chair to replace it. As she did so, her eyes fell on the stack of files on the table. _Fuck_. Her good mood had been excessively short-lived. Sitting down at the table, she grabbed the first file and was lost in it depressingly quickly, only breaking out of the public security-haze when a warm hand touched her shoulder. She slammed the file closed quickly, fixing a smile to her face as she turned to him.

  
‘Shouldn't really have these out around you' she brushed her thumb against his outstretched palm, half-hoping he would take the hint and return to his own room and half-hoping he wouldn't. He obviously did, however, as he picked his crumpled jacket up from the floor before stepping back to stoop down and press his lips to the corner of her mouth. The small intake of breath she made as a result was involuntary but she felt his lips twitch and couldn't help smiling herself. David returned to his usual upright position and started towards the door but he'd barely moved before turning back to her with a wrinkle in his brow. The endless flood of possibilities of issues he might have to raise with her thundered through Julia’s mind and she arched an eyebrow, tapping her foot impatiently.

  
‘You obviously want to say something' if he was going to question her about her politics again, she really thought she might scream.

  
‘What you said earlier, I... I just hope that you know I don't feel like that. About you.' Oh. Not precisely what she'd expected. He was trying to meet her eyes but she didn't let him, casting her gaze over the closed books in front of her instead.

  
‘I really _really_ don't want to talk about that now' she really, _really_ didn't. Any in-depth discussion of feelings had never come naturally to her and at that moment she didn't even know what she was feeling. ‘Look, I don't want you to feel unwelcome but I have all this to do and...’ she trailed off, feeling a twinge of guilt when she glanced up at his face and the shutters had come down behind his eyes again.

  
‘Of course. Good night, ma'am' really, she had no reason to feel guilty. The mountains of work she had to do rated considerably higher on her list of priorities than soothing her personal protection officer's ego. Nevertheless, it was likely to make things difficult all round if she really offended him so she stood up to put a hand to his face and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek.

  
‘I'll see you in the morning?’ She said, injecting unsurety into her voice even though there was obviously no doubt about the matter. Allowing him to reassure her, to soothe her apparent vulnerability, was a tactic that seldom failed when it came to men like David. Men, in her experience, needed to feel like protectors; some sort of caveman instinct, she supposed. She was not, however, sure that it entirely worked on David Budd. His expression was utterly, almost inhumanly, blank. Julia prided herself on her ability to read other people's feelings and sometimes David was no exception, but there were these moments when she was completely unable to even guess. Yet another reason for her to keep him at arm's length, she thought, but it didn't stop her from feeling sick to her stomach when he finally withdrew and the adjoining door slammed shut. _Too much to drink,_ she thought, and almost believed herself.

 


End file.
